


Weary Spirit

by feardubh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Ficlet, M/M, Post Season/Series 08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 15:38:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feardubh/pseuds/feardubh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel are on a clifftop as Dean lives out his last moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Release

Dean Winchester sat calmly, gazing out at the pale blue sea. A light wind danced, ruffling his hair and tugging at his collar. _Play with me!_ it called as it rolled through the course grass that pushed towards the perfect cloudless sky. Dean was too old to play now, or even stand without assistance, so he allowed the lightest of smiles to curve his lips and continued watching the bay.

The first time he had shown signs of terminal illness, Castiel had sent it away with two fingers and a burst of angel magic. Dean had thanked him, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he grinned. Castiel had also healed the cancer forming in his lungs years later and the heavy damage to his liver caused more by a life full of pain than the alcohol used to drown it. Sadness did things to a body, things that even an angel couldn't heal.

It broke all the rules to keep giving miracles and extending his life, but Castiel couldn't bear to face the alternative. He'd been around for thousands of years and had seen millions upon millions of human faces grow and whither with the passage of time, but this one man was one he knew had marked him, touched his very essence and carved it into a new form. This creature was no longer Castiel-angel-of-Thursday-soldier-of-the-lord; he was a different being, the second part of Dean-and-Castiel, and what was an angel without his hunter?

Dean was now eighty three years old and he sat in a wheelchair at the top of a cliff, looking down at the ocean and up at the sky. He'd allowed his legs to deteriorate over the past decade, and now he could no longer walk on his own. Two days ago Castiel had noticed a dysrhythmia. He'd reached out with those two fingers-- and had been bewildered when a hand met his own, brushing it aside.

"It's time, Cas." the hunter said as a quiet certainty filled his eyes. Castiel had no reply to that.

Today was the day that Dean Winchester would leave the world. It was funny that after everything this man had survived in his life, all of the demons and monsters and the devil himself, it would be his brave little soldier's heart that would give out and do him in. He wouldn't go out in a blaze of flaming glory, torn to pieces by a mob of vampires or crushed at the hands of a leviathan. No, Dean was going to pass as easily as he'd arrived on the earth, perhaps even more so. It was peaceful on the clifftop.

"I like it out here, Cas. Thanks for bringing me out."

He smiled. "Of course, Dean. I'm glad you enjoy it."

Castiel had been conflicted when he discovered the defect. Dean obviously didn't want to be healed, but it seemed unfair to him that he would die in such a short time without prior knowledge of what would be happening. That night he sat down with the hunter and explained the situation. He'd hoped to be able to change Dean's mind, but his friend remained firm in his decision.

The wind rushed by again, teasing at his faded trench and plucking at his hair. Castiel stepped closer to Dean and placed his hand on the man's shoulder.

"You be sure to tell Sam when... it's over, okay? Will you do that for me Cas?" Dean asked, turning his head to stare up at the angel.

"Of course."

Sam was living in Colorado now. He'd finally found someone to settle down with and had quite a large and happy family. Dean and Castiel visited a few years ago and it had been a very blessed meeting; neither of the boys had guessed they'd live long enough to experience normal lives, although Sam was the only one who pursued one while Dean had kept hunting until he turned fifty one. Castiel was never sure why he'd never tried to find someone to spend his life with after that and every day he'd been afraid Dean would decide he should live without the angel's company. He never did, though, he just kept to himself and flashed that same quiet smile when Castiel came to see him. At first he only visited every few weeks, then every couple of days, but over the last two decades he and Dean had lived with each other almost constantly.

"You know... It was a long life. A good one, I think."

"You saved many people, Dean. You lived a very great life. Your father is proud of you." His voice was low and grave. Castiel pulled his gaze from Dean's face and looked out over that water at a small boat bobbing in the waves.

"Really?" Dean's voice slipped up in excitement.

Castiel nodded. "Before Heaven dissolved and the angels left, I spoke with him after he escaped Hell. He had... a very touching paradise."

The Heaven generated by the soul of John Winchester was once one of his favorite places; it was full of memories of Dean, Sam, and Mary, all touched by a great love. When the angel had conversed with him, John had remained bright eyed with tears, his voice choked with affection. There was none of the gruff soldier here. John's idea of Heaven was a manifestation of the bonds of family. And that was what it was really all about, right? Family was what matters.

Dean nodded happily. That was a loose end in his life, a string that he'd never really been able to find the source of and something he'd hidden deep down in his mind, but now he could be released from the bonds he'd been placed in. John loved him. Was proud of him.

It happened so quickly, Dean wasn't aware of his last moments had arrived until his heart began to flutter. The organ thumped harshly, shuddering in his chest.

"Cas."

The angel swung around and crouched before the chair, his hand sliding down Dean's shoulder to rest on his upper arm. His fingers splayed over the unseen mark of their first contact and his eyes widened as he stared at the hunter's face. No. No! He was not ready!

"Dean."

In that split second a million memories flashed into Castiel's mind. The day they met, the fierceness in the hunter's eyes. Watching him torment Alastair. Uriel, saying he cared too much. Being carted back to Heaven for getting too close. Rebelling. Fighting demons and monsters side by side with Dean. The long stares, the gentle affection shared in their faces. Purgatory.

Dean smiled calmly and one last look of love passed between them.

"Goodbye, Cas. Thank you for everything." He coughed. "Look after Sam."

He slumped in the chair, and as he fell Castiel pulled him forward until his knees hit the ground and they kneeled together. One arm wound around the man's back and held him in a tight embrace and the other slipped into a deep pocket and removed a mobile phone. Second number on speed dial.

_You've reached Sam Winchester. Please leave me a message and I'll get back to you soon._

"Hello Sam, it's Castiel. Dean has passed away. Heart failure. It was quite peaceful. I'm sorry, Sam. He said to look after you. I'll watch over you, but don't worry, I'll make sure Karen doesn't see." There were no more words he could say, nothing he could voice without releasing a flood of something he didn't quite think he could handle.

The mobile slipped from his fingers and landed in the grass with a quiet thump.

Fifty years ago, if Dean had died this would have been a different story. Castiel would have been able to pull him back from the dead or visit him in Heaven. If Dean didn't want to come back down to Earth, Castiel would have been perfectly content knowing his spirit was in paradise; he deserved that much at least. Dean would have been in the company of his father, his adopted father, and in later years his brother. Jo and Ash were there too, and surrounded by so many of his loved ones, Dean might have found peace.

Castiel could have spent eternity in the paradise of Dean Winchester, delving into the depths of his brilliant soul.

The wind whistled past them again, teasing his hair and moving his trench with a steady _flap, flap._ Castiel's eyes remained fixed on Dean's slack face, shock and fear and a childish need pooling in their azure depths. He rested his forehead on the hunter's and let his eyes flutter shut.

There was an abyss opening inside of him, rending his mind and forming a gaping blackness that threatened to suck him down when he'd be lost. This wasn't fair, not to either of them; Dean deserved millenium in Heaven, and Castiel needed to be with him. An angel without his father is still faithful, and an angel without his fellow soldiers is alone, yes, but not broken.

An angel without his hunter is lost.

_Snik_

The seraph blade slid from his sleeve with a small sound. Castiel's fingers curled around the handle and he leaned back, curling his torso away from Dean's as he pulled away from the body. The tip of the liquid bright knife rose and rested over the heart of his vessel.

His hand trembled slightly.

"Goodbye, Dean."

A single thrust, a motion of harmonized bone and sinew and muscle, and then the world was on fire. For a split second everything was bright, the colors in sharp contrast as Castiel fell back slightly, bracing his left hand on Dean's shoulder. His eyes rolled as they sought the hunter's face.

The clifftop, already bright with clear sunlight, began to light up, its colors beeding away slowly. Castiel knew what he must look like; he'd seen angels die enough times before. Blinding light was pouring from his eyes, his mouth, and he screamed in an agony more of the spirit than of the body. Another flash lit up the cliff as he did so, and no doubt every angel on this side of the continent could hear his call, but Castiel paid the thought of company no mind. He'd be gone by the time anyone got here if they even cared enough to try and find him.

As the bonds holding his true form to the human vessel began to break, Castiel released two massive creamy wings. They unfolded in a swift movement and then folded around the body he still held before him, forming an unbreakable cocoon.

The swell of light from their bodies lit up the sky.


	2. Mistaken Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel find himself in the heaven his father made to test the real Heaven.

"Cas."

Darkness.

"Yo, Castiel!"

What?

"Could you wake your ass up, you moron?"

Castiel's eyes fluttered open. It was a weird sensation; this was neither his true form, nor his vessel. It was something new. He glanced down at his body. Same tie, same trench. He still looked like Novak, but there was something odd about his skin, a strange, shimmery blue quality visible just around his edges.

"Rise and shine, brother."

He blinked at looked up at the figure looming over him. He too had an iridensent aura, this time a cheery golden color.

"Gabriel?" he breathed, his eyes widening in shock.

"Hell yeah!" his brother grinned and held out one hand to pull him up.

As Castiel got to his feet, he looked around. They were on an otherwise empty Greyhound bus, standing in the middle of the isle. A gentle, sloping landscape rolled past them beyond the windows, green fields giving way to a darker evergreen forest. In the distance, a glimmering strip of water outlined the road. The sky above was a light, clear blue, dotted with whispy clouds high in the atmosphere.

"Where are we? You are dead, and I'm..." Castiel looked down at himself again, his lips pulling down into a frown.

"Here's the deal. Before Dad made capital-H Heaven, he made this place; it was a trial run. It's a lot like the human's idea of Heaven, because instead of an infinite number of places made by the souls, it's one big happy land." Gabriel chuckled. "So this place has been sitting around for as long as the world has been around, and none of us knew about it. Why should we?" He sat down in a seat, motioning for Castiel to join him as the bus slowed and turned on to a smaller road. "And the thing is, it's almost like a step above Heaven. Demons go to Earth when they're free, people go to Heaven, angels go here."

"Gabriel, Heaven has been gone for years. Our father left the Earth." Castiel said gravely, his eyes dropping to the floor before flicking up to his brother's. "What happened to all of the human souls?" It was confusing, to wake up here and find his dead brother. He should be nothing by now, his consciousness erased from the planes of this universe, and Castiel should have vanished into that emptiness when he died. And Dean, Dean... He'd hoped to escape that.

The bus slowed as a small white house came into view. Judging by its size boasted no more than a few small rooms and a little chimney along one side, and it was surrounded by trees, but it had a small front yard and a narrow driveway.

A very familiar car was parked in that driveway.


End file.
